Prayer
at 3 a.m.
by Deborah Beach Giordano
Wide Awake at 3 a.m.
God, have mercy on me!
It’s 3 a.m.
again,
and here I am:
wide awake,
again,
lying here
tossing and turning
and twitching
endlessly.
As if I’ve been bitten
by bedbugs.
Bedbugs... Holy cow.
What if there ARE bedbugs?
I’d have to
have the whole place fumigated,
and burn the mattress
and the pillows,
and buy all new sheets.
And what if people found out?
They’d think my house
was filthy
or I was one of those crazy folks
with rooms filled
with garbage they’ve hoarded;
and the Health Department
would come
and post
a Big Yellow Sign
on the front door...
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Wait a minute.
There are no bedbugs,
that’s crazy;
I don’t even itch,
I’m just nervous
and tense ..
because I can’t sleep
again;
and it’s
3:12 in the morning
again;
and if I don’t get some sleep
soon
it will be time to get up
and I won’t have slept
and I’ll be so tired
that I won’t be able
to do my job
or think straight,
and when you’re tired
your reflexes are slower:
I could trip and fall
and break a leg,
or get in an accident,
and then my insurance rates
would go up,
and I might be off work ...
or on disability,
and not be able
to pay my bills
and end up
living under a bridge
in a cardboard box
and ...
it’s 3:18 a.m.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Wait a minute.
None of that
is going to happen;
it’s crazy to lay here
imagining such things.
Maybe that’s it —
maybe I’m crazy;
maybe I’m cracking up
because I haven’t had
any sleep
again.
Maybe they’ll come
and haul me away
in a straight jacket.
And then
there would be
no one
to feed the dog.
It’s 3:23 a.m.
and I
am still awake
again.
I have to stop.
And get a grip.
I’m not crazy,
just tired;
I won’t fall downstairs
or run a stop sign;
there are no bedbugs,
no men in white jackets
waiting to take me away,
there’s only me
lying here
freaking out
because I haven’t slept
again ...
and there’s You, God.
Right?
You ARE out there,
right?
Listening
to my monologue,
watching
as I flop around
like a trout
reeled into a canoe.
You were a great one
for hanging out
with fishermen;
how about having
some mercy
on this poor fish?
That’s how I feel, Lord:
like a fish
out of water —
gasping
and struggling;
my thoughts
flailing
endlessly,
pointlessly.
Why am I awake
again
at a quarter to four
in the morning?
Have you caught me,
Divine Fisherman,
in order to release me
into a place
of deep and silent
midnight blue waters
where other
sleepless souls
are swimming?
For if I do not sleep,
I can pray;
I can keep watch
as the darkness turns
to light;
remembering all those
who, like me,
cannot find rest
throughout the long night;
my sisters and brothers
who wait and watch
and worry.
My heart goes out to them,
my unknown, unnamed kin.
Comfort them,
O Tender Friend,
with the knowledge
that they are not alone;
that You and I are with them,
fill their souls with hope,
strengthen their spirits,
so that they
will join
with me
in singing
Your praises.
Because You
cared enough
to keep me awake
until 3 a.m.
again.
Virtual hugs and real-time blessings,
Deborah +
Recommended Spiritual Practice
When you can’t get to sleep, or find yourself awake in the middle of the night, don’t consider it a problem, but an opportunity: a holy gift. You’ve been given a time for quiet, undisturbed prayer and reflection.
Note: Matins (Orthros in Greek and Russian Orthodox traditions) is a liturgy/prayer service held in the very early morning hours, following the midnight vigil. It often concludes at sunrise.
Note 2: A pattern of sleepless nights should be discussed with your health care professional.